


Big Girls Don't Cry

by MajorIndecision



Series: My Eyes Adored You [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Eventual Fluff, Falling In Love, Going Soft, How Do I Tag, M/M, Major Original Character(s), Nuka Cola, Nuka-World Amusement Park (Fallout), OOC Porter Gage, Original Character(s), Out of Character, Raiders (Fallout 4) - Freeform, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, The Disciples (Fallout 4), The Operators (Fallout 4), The Pack (Fallout 4), Title from a 70s rock song, feral ghouls, not a self-insert, title from The Four Seasons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:05:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27450136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MajorIndecision/pseuds/MajorIndecision
Summary: Gage stared, glancing back to the ghoul, apparently putting two and two together.“Oh my fucking God,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “you are not giving me a roommate.”“You’re free to move,” said the Overboss instead. She snapped her fingers and pointed to the radio. “I need that.”Gage narrowed his eyes. “Why?”“Because I just killed a guy over one. I’ll get you another, Porter.”Gage sighed heavily, wordlessly sliding the radio down the bar towards her. “I’m tolerating this ‘cause you’re the Overboss and you’re decent. Don’t get too cocky about it.”--or--The new Overboss takes an interest in a ghoul slave among the others pushed around by Nuka-World's raiders. Porter Gage is forced to get along with him, and finds that he may like this slave more than he originally thought.
Relationships: Porter Gage/Original Character(s), Porter Gage/Original Male Character(s)
Series: My Eyes Adored You [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2009437
Kudos: 7





	Big Girls Don't Cry

**Author's Note:**

> In Google Docs, this comes out to about nine pages. Didn't really mean to write that much about this silly little idea.
> 
> Started thinking about Gob from Fallout 3, and it inspired this fic :-)

Really, he shouldn’t have been surprised at the level of violence he experienced on a daily basis—after all, he was dealing with a series of blood-thirsty raiders. Still, he kept holding out for some hope that one would have an ounce of mercy and he’d get a break.

He knew it had something to do with the fact that he wasn’t human anymore. Since he was a ghoul, they worked him harder than every other slave, sent him into highly irradiated areas, even went so far as to deny him the basic commodities and beat him when he tried to politely remind them that he still needed to eat and sleep.

He almost wished he would finally go feral, hoping that it would end his suffering. There were days when he questioned why he was even alive, if his life would be nothing but pain—but sometimes, there were bright spots, and he allowed it to keep him going. Maybe that was part of the way the raiders kept him brainwashed into being productive.

Fear was mostly what kept him going, but occasionally a raider would have something they didn’t want anymore, and rather than letting another raider they disliked pick it up, they’d give it to one of the slaves. Just recently a raider had caught him after one of his jobs and given him a radio.

“Here, you fucking freak,” they’d said, with a hint of amusement in their voice, “if you can fix it, you can have it.”

Immediately, he was nervous that it was stolen—that someone would come after him after he fixed it. Nonetheless, he thanked the raider; even if they’d blatantly insulted him, it was more kindness than he’d experienced in about a month. Members of the Pack letting him eat some of the leftover dog food last week when the Disciples chose to starve him didn’t really count. 

When he had a few minutes of free time each day, he’d tinker with the radio. Before becoming a slave, he didn’t have much knowledge with technology, but since not being able to fix something meant getting beaten, he’d gotten rather proficient with it. After a few nights, the radio came to life.

_ There’s an old piano and they play it hot behind the green door! _

He fumbled with the volume until it was at an acceptable level. A few raiders turned their heads, but were apparently content to let him enjoy himself for at least a little while. He trembled with the small electronic in his hands, worried that someone would come along and bust it up beyond repair.

He turned it off and hid it away amongst his few other possessions when raiders he recognized as being violent came by; for good measure, he also hid it from each of the bosses. The exception to this rule was when another slave asked to listen to it while working, since the raiders were more lenient with the humans surrounding him.

At least the other slaves tried to treat him nicely, but they usually did this out of sight and earshot of the other raiders. He didn’t blame them: if they were caught sympathizing with him, they were usually subjected to the same treatment. He allowed his life to be a painful and lonely one, in that sense. But he kept hoping that something better would come along—better than a small radio they hardly let him use.

When Colter died, he seemed to have gotten his wish. The new Overboss saw him among the other slaves and approached; granted, he stood out like a sore thumb against the other humans. He instinctively flinched when the Overboss came to stop near him, and expected some sort of a hit.

“Could you help me with something?” asked the woman instead. He glanced up in surprise and found her gazing at him with an unreadable emotion that didn’t appear to be negative.

“Erm. You’re asking?” he rasped. It was a stupid question, but the other raiders just— _ told.  _ Her tone was making it sound like he actually had a choice in the matter, but he knew that was too good to be true.

“If you’re not busy,” she clarified. He stared dumbly, glancing back to his dirty hands. He’d been tasked with scrapping since the other raiders didn’t care to do it; the humans around him were staring at the interaction.

“Um. S-Sure, Overboss,” he whispered. She motioned for him to follow and turned to walk away; he scrambled to his feet and rushed to keep up with her. His heart felt like it was going to hammer out of his chest; he hadn’t heard anything about the Overboss since she killed Colter with a water gun and a missile launcher.

“I’m going to clear out one of the parks,” she began to explain when they were farther down the road, “but it’s severely irradiated.”

He froze. She noticed and paused, gazing back at him. “You alright?”

He sputtered, gesturing to the collar around his neck. His fingers trembled. “I can’t—i-if I get too close to the gate, i-it detonates.” He knew the exact threshold for detonation, actually, because he’d contemplated suicide a few times. Now, he was afraid to die.

She gazed at his collar for a moment before turning on her heel and going in the opposite direction. He hesitantly trailed after her again, watching her march up to Fizztop.

She called the elevator and turned to gaze at him as he tentatively shuffled over. “What did you say your name was?”

He jerked in surprise, swallowing dryly. The other raiders never bothered to ask his name—they usually just called him Freak, and when they  _ did  _ use his name, it was mockingly. He didn’t like it anymore.

“I...I don’t know,” he said quietly. He knit his brows together and his fingers kissed; his gaze met the floor. He  _ really  _ hoped she wouldn’t beat him for his answer. Instead, she hummed thoughtfully.

“I’ll call you… Major. Like a codename. You can call me Professor, if you want.”

The ease at which she spoke to him startled him—that, and the fact that it seemed to be genuinely friendly conversation. It didn’t sit well with him; any other time the raiders were this kind to him, it meant they were about to do something horrible to him. His stomach churned as he got onto the elevator with her.

...But there was something nice about the name Major.

When the elevator reached the Grille, Professor was the first to step off and call another name: “Gage!”

The man Major would recognize as Colter’s right-hand man was sitting at a bar nearby, looking up as the new Overboss arrived. He cocked a brow. “Cleared the park already, Boss? That was fast,” he said, deadpan.

“Very funny,” she huffed. She motioned for Major to come closer, and, shaking like a leaf, he complied. He honestly thought Porter Gage would wring his neck like a fucking mop.

“I need you to get his collar off.”

“Freeing slaves already? It’s a little early to start a revolution,” grunted Gage.

“Ha-ha. You said there was a ghoul who’s been to Kiddie Kingdom, asshole. I found him, so take off the collar so he can come with me.”

Gage wordlessly sets his drink down and gestures for Major to come closer. The ghoul shuffled over, and Porter reached his strong hands out to clasp at the collar around his neck, which beeped a little faster. Major closed his eyes like he was accepting death.

“Jesus,” uttered Gage quietly, “you’re shakin’. I ain’t gonna kill ya.”

Professor took notice, too. She placed a hand on her hip. “You haven’t hurt him before, have you?”

Gage nearly did a double-take. “What? No. You think I’ve got that kind of time?” His accusation implied that the only reason he  _ didn’t  _ bully the slaves, and Major in particular, was due to being busy. Major thought that was also why the other bosses didn’t bother him much.

“He’s scared. Why else would he be scared?”

“Because  _ everyone else  _ treats him like shit? I don’t know why he acts like a kicked dog, Boss. I ain’t a therapist.”

They were talking about him like he wasn’t there. Major swallowed wordlessly, used to the treatment; it was a nice change of pace, at least, for them to call him a “he” rather than an “it”.

Finally, the collar clicked off of him. When he heard the beep of the cold metal being disarmed and removed, he jumped and screwed his eyes shut like it was going to detonate instead. He yelped when Gage’s hands went back around his neck.

He stared with wide eyes, trembling uncontrollably, as Gage massaged the bruises around his neck with a strange gentleness. “There,” he muttered sourly, “pain in the ass.”

“Sorry,” whispered Major, tears springing to his eyes, “I don’t want to die today. Don’t hurt me.” The rest of it spilled out after the genuine apology, but it made Gage stop and let him go. His brows furrowed together.

“Gage, don’t scare him like that,” scolded Professor. Gage scoffed and sputtered like a child who’d been caught in the middle of doing something his parents disliked.

“I wasn’t tryin’ to scare him! I just—” He grumbled out some half-assed excuse, taking his bottle back into his hands and brooding at the bar. If he were to be honest, which wasn’t his strong suit, he didn’t know  _ why  _ he’d felt the need to show somewhat of a softer side of his personality.

He’d deny that he was going soft—in this business, that was usually a death sentence. But there was something undeniable about the ghoul that reminded Gage of something before raiders, before the “no mercy” practices he was accustomed to. Maybe he just felt bad because he knew how bad this one was treated.

They did beat up on him more than any other slave. Gage, when Colter was still Overboss, would usually watch. Maybe he felt bad for doing nothing about it. Regardless, it bothered him. He took a swig of his alcohol as the ghoul and the Overboss left to deal with the irradiated ferals in Kiddie Kingdom.

Major wasn’t actually sure why the Overboss was bringing him. He knew he was mostly safe from the radiation, and the ferals wouldn’t attack him; when they got to the gate, this proved to be the exact reason why.

“I just need you to go in and give me a heads-up—how many ferals we’re dealing with, where they are, how big the place is and where we go to turn off the radiation.”

“I’m, um, scouting the place out,” Major clarified quietly. The Overboss nodded and produced a heavy wrench from her bag, holding it out to him.

The ghoul froze. The last time he’d had a wrench, the raiders had beat him for having a weapon, even if he’d been using it to fix something around Nuka Town. She caught that fearful look in his gaze.

“You need to be able to defend yourself. I’m giving it to you—I’m not gonna hurt you for having it. I can take it back before we get to Nuka Town.”

He nodded quietly, but still shook as he took it. He glanced up and met her gaze before turning and entering the park.

Exploring was both uneventful and nerve-wracking. Oswald spoke to him over the speakers, telling him to come live with him and his ferals rather than siding with the raiders and the Overboss, but something about her told Major that Professor would take this park even without his help. A bad taste sat in his mouth as he helped her, regardless.

But she didn’t kill Oswald. Apparently, she’d found a holotape belonging to someone he’d known, written for him, and he left without a fight after giving her his hat and melee weapon. She inspected the loot quietly.

Suddenly, she grinned. “Hey, Major,” she called. The ghoul shuffled over worriedly, expecting some sort of torture—that’s what that smile meant on other raiders, anyway. When she moved suddenly, he flinched away, terrified of a punch.

Something fell on his head. He made a strangled sound of surprise, opening his eyes and having to tilt something up to clear his vision. She was still grinning—and there was Oswald’s top hat on his head.

She giggled. “You look cute,” she commented, turning back towards the flagpole to summon one of the raider gangs. He stood there, stunned.

She ended up giving the park to the Pack, apparently thinking that it was rather fitting. As she’d said, she took the wrench back from him as they got to the park. He continued to follow her as she came in.

“Saw the flag go up,” a member of the Pack addressed her. She nodded to him.

“All yours,” she hummed. She watched them leave, and her gaze drifted to Major. He was still wearing the hat. She smiled.

“Thanks for helping me.”

He didn’t know what to say. No one had really thanked him before. He knew less what to say when she added: “You should come up to Fizztop Grille. Bring your stuff. It’d be nice to have someone other than Gage up there.”

Major just sputtered. He really thought it was some sort of trick, or that she was going to hurt him up there, but he couldn’t deny her, particularly on the off chance that she was genuinely being kind. “Where’re your belongings? I can help you carry them up there.”

He led her, awkwardly shuffling and muttering his thanks, to his bedroll in the marketplace. He paused when it came into sight, immediately noticing something was wrong. Some of the raiders nearby were snickering.

His heart sank when he realized he’d left the radio on when the Overboss asked for his help so suddenly. He scrambled over and his fears were confirmed: his radio was dead.

Professor came to stand beside him, gazing at the broken electronic. Quietly, she waved a raider over. “Who did this?” She gestured to the ruined radio.

The raider pointed someone out, laughing a bit louder than the rest in the small gathered crowd. Professor nodded thoughtfully before pulling out her bull barrel revolver and blasting the bastard’s brains out right there.

Major covered his ears at the earth-shattering sound, and a few screams rang across the market. Casually, as though she hadn’t just murdered a man, the Overboss put the big iron back on her hip. She placed a hand on the ghoul’s shoulder.

“There’s a radio up in Fizztop you can have. I listen to my Pip-Boy, anyway,” she was saying. Major stared at her with wide, terrified eyes. She came over to his belongings and gathered up everything that wasn’t broken or torn.

“We can replace everything else at the Grille. Let’s go,” she was saying. Major followed quickly, mostly out of utter terror that he was next. His heart was still hammering when he stepped off of the elevator at the top of Fizztop for the second time.

Gage was sitting next to the radio Professor had mentioned. RedEye’s voice flooded through: “—and it seems like, minutes after giving Kiddie Kingdom to the Pack, our Overboss has shot and killed a raider in the marketplace!”

Gage reached over and adjusted the volume as Professor approached, turning to gaze at her. “Really?”

“What?” She set Major’s things down on a spare table. Gage stared, glancing back to the ghoul, apparently putting two and two together.

“Oh my fucking God,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, “you are  _ not  _ giving me a roommate.”

“You’re free to move,” said the Overboss instead. She snapped her fingers and pointed to the radio. “I need that.”

Gage narrowed his eyes. “ _ Why?” _

“Because I just  _ killed a guy  _ over one. I’ll get you another, Porter.”

Gage sighed heavily, wordlessly sliding the radio down the bar towards her. “I’m tolerating this ‘cause you’re the Overboss and you’re decent. Don’t get too cocky about it.”

“Thanks, honey,” teased Professor. Major stood there looking back and forth between the two as they verbally poked at each other like good friends, feeling severely out of place. His skin crawled. He missed the marketplace already. Was he going to die up here?

Professor left to do something else in Nuka Town—Major didn’t really hear where she was going. Suddenly, he was left alone with Gage. He felt sick.

Gage took another drink of his alcohol before sighing heavily, raising from the bar. When he stretched, his muscles rippled and his bones popped. “Alright,” he grunted, “where do you want your shit?”

Major was taken aback. “W-What?”

Gage turned to gaze blankly at him. “Your stuff. Bedroll ‘n crap. You want it out here, inside, you wanna take one of the mattresses inside or…”

“I—can move it,” sputtered Major. He came over and hurriedly gathered his things like Gage would kill him if he was in his way any longer; he tried to pick everything up so fast he kept dropping small things, looking like he was about to cry. It was sad to watch.

Gage came over and picked up something as Major was reaching for it; their hands brushed together. Major jerked away like he’d been shot. “For fuck’s sake,” grunted Porter, straightening himself, “ok, I’m gonna establish a ground rule right now.”

Major was trembling already. Gage set his jaw irritably. “I don’t like fuckers who’re spineless. I ain’t gonna hurt ya. This whole  _ kicked puppy  _ act is pissin’ me off. You better grow some balls while you’re here.”

It was harsh, but nothing the ghoul hadn’t heard before; although, typically when the other raiders called him “spineless”, it was out of pure meanness, and wasn’t followed by telling him to change. Major opened his mouth, then closed it, glancing down. His demeanor screamed  _ I don’t know how to do that, and I’m scared.  _ Gage sighed.

“I mean it. This ain’t one of those things where I tell ya to toughen up and beat the piss outta ya when ya finally do. I’m  _ serious.  _ I’m an asshole. I like confidence.”

Major glanced up, swallowing nervously. “Like… Professor?”

Gage nodded, folding his arms. “Y’see how she talks back, doesn’t take my shit? I like that. An’ when I don’t like it, you’ll know. So chill the fuck out.”

His words didn’t do much to ease Major’s fears, but he kept it in mind. Quietly, he shuffled inside, searching for a place to put his bedroll. Gage followed, because he’d picked up some of Major’s clothes. They were tattered and dirty and sad.

He stared at the fabric for a moment, glancing up to the ghoul. “You attached to any of this?” He waved the clothes about. Major turned and stared at them for a moment.

“Er. They’re rather old… Not really…”

“Good,” grunted Gage, immediately plopping the items into a nearby trash can. Major gaped at him.

“W-Wait—”

“Let’s go,” said Gage, turning back to the elevator. Major scrambled to drop his things, hurrying after the right-hand man.

“W-Wait! What are we—where are we g-going?”

“I’m gonna buy you some new clothes,” Gage sighed. In the back of his mind, the worry that he was growing soft wormed its way into his mind. He told himself that he just wanted the ghoul to be presentable since he was living around the Overboss now.

Speaking of which—before they left, Porter turned and wordlessly snatched the top hat off of Major’s head, tossing it onto a nearby table. He offered no explanation for his behavior other than an uttering of “fuckin’ stupid”.

They were back in the marketplace now. The gazes from the other slaves made Major uncomfortable. He still didn’t have his collar back on, and here he was with the Overboss’ right-hand man. They had to have been thinking nasty things about him.

They whispered amongst themselves about a traitor, but some of them admitted they would’ve done the same thing if given the chance. Only a handful were actually mad at Major. The rest were tired, some even happy that the ghoul finally got a chance at a better life.

Major didn’t know that. He was trembling like a leaf again. Gage groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose at the ghoul’s behavior. “Would you please just pick out a fuckin’ shirt or something.”

Major ducked towards one of the stalls at Gage’s exasperated statement, looking over the clothing folded neatly against the kiosk. He pauses, slipping his calloused fingers into his pockets.

“I don’t...have any caps,” he uttered quietly. Gage pulled a purse out of his own pockets and tossed it towards the ghoul, who barely caught it.

“There. Go ham. But if you buy anything ugly I’m makin’ ya put it back.”

Major had no idea what qualified as ugly. He felt like everyone was staring at him and his skin crawled with fear. His stomach churned. He felt like he was going to pass out. Frozen there at the stall, he was taking too long for Porter’s liking; the right-hand man sighed.

He slinked forward and poked at the different articles of clothes, settling on simple shirts and pants that felt soft enough not to bother the ghoul’s rotting skin. After picking out a few outfits, he took the purse of caps out of Major’s hands and slapped them onto the counter.

“There. No, don’t count it, I don’t give a shit. Merry Christmas,” waved Porter callously. He turned to leave, tugging at Major as he walked out. The ghoul scrambled after him.

“Thank you,” he was saying. Gage rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, well. Wouldn’t have to do it for you if you moved your ass faster.”

Major was quiet. Porter glanced back at him, then huffed boredly as he turned his gaze back towards where they were headed back to Fizztop. The ghoul remembered what he said earlier about talking back.

His voice trembled, but the attempt was clear: “If you took action half as much as you complained, y-you’d have taken the other parks by now.”

Porter stopped walking out of surprise. Major took it as anger and flinched away. Gage glanced back at him. “...That one was pretty good,” the raider admitted.

Major’s gaze snapped up in surprise. He watched Porter shrug and start heading back up towards Fizztop again, muttering to himself all the while. Hurriedly, the ghoul joined him.

Gage even waited for him at the elevator, watching the ghoul scramble up to it in somewhat of a panic. The entire time, he was thinking,  _ I’m not going soft,  _ even while holding the bundle of clothes he’d picked out for him.

When Major changed—and Gage made him change, and take a shower, since he and his current wardrobe was fucking filthy—into a Nuka-Cola t-shirt and jeans, Porter stared blankly at him. His gaze swept over the ghoul’s body, and the faintest of a smile on his lips, and suddenly Gage only had one other thought:

_ Shit. _

**Author's Note:**

> The ghoul's name was going to be Mordin, but I didn't totally like it, fumbled for a name, and ended up going with Major.
> 
> I swear this isn't a self-insert, I actually get uncomfortable writing that sort of thing because I can't get past my self-hatred - anyway, hope you enjoyed xoxo


End file.
